


It Could Be Worse

by Oswald_Nygmobblepot



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:42:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oswald_Nygmobblepot/pseuds/Oswald_Nygmobblepot
Summary: Inspired by the panel done by nygmobblepot-fanart http://nygmobblepot-fanart.tumblr.com/post/148616599261/it-could-be-worse (WARNING: Story does contain character death and themes of suicide)





	1. It could be worse.

Chapter 1 – Nygma’s POV 

Edward awoke, confused as was becoming more and more frequent as of late. He knew the tell tale signs of his other self taking over, but this time … Something felt off. He felt pain. And mixed with that pain was relief. A sense of calm. He looked down at the pool of blood around him, coating his lap, pouring onto the floor and he knew nothing could be done. It was too late now. He closed his eyes again and rested his head back against the bed, dimly aware of the sheets shifting on the bed behind him. 

‘Oh, my little Ed. Look at yourself.’ He could feel hands running through his hair, someone sitting behind him on the bed and knew it wasn’t Oz. Oz would never comfort him like this … Not for this. Not like this. He heaved a sigh as he heard the sheets moving, dimly knew that Oswald was awake. 

“Ed?” The voice was distant, almost hallow, his vision fading. He was dying and he knew there was nothing anyone could do … Even if he had wanted it. He couldn’t help but think about the years he was losing. Of all the memories he had left with Oswald that now would never happen. He listened to Oswald padding around the bed, ‘Don’t come over here’. He silently begged. ‘Stay there.’ “Hey …” Oswald said, his voice even quieter now. 

‘You’ve always been a disaster, just like now … With all this blood scattered around you.’ Oswald’s hand came into his line of dim vision, reaching for his cut arm, a long streak from elbow to wrist, the crimson a stark contrast against his pale flesh. ‘It could have been only the two of us! But you had to put someone between us, didn’t you?’ A sharp gasp, a hand around his throat, and Edward felt consumed as sweat poured down his face, his glasses slipping down his nose. ‘Weren’t we enough for each other?’ The voice was right in his ear, inside his head, consuming, engulfing to the point where he felt like it had come from his own mouth. Perhaps it had. 

‘No, you had to do it on your own. You had to make me angry …’ The hand slipped from his throat, the hands replaced with Oswald’s cold shaking hands, trying to get him to respond, to look at him. He knew he was talking, couldn’t understand what he was saying. He was slipping away, and quickly. ‘Look at him, your dear King of Gotham. On his knees, screaming, with tears in his eyes, only for you.’ Maybe it would finally silence the voices. Maybe it would be quiet. No more noise. No more voice. No more pain. 

‘Was this was you wanted?’ Edward tried to shaking his head as Oswald buried his head in his chest, his other self’s hand clenched in his hair, as if to force him to look at Oswald. To see what he’d done to him. To see the broken man begging for him to be alright. Begging a reason, an explanation. ‘Your little, private alter in which to be venerated?’ 

He could feel Oswald’s hot tears on his face, and wished it would stop. Was it selfish of him to want that? For Oswald to stop crying? To leave him alone? To go back to sleep? But no … He wanted Oswald’s hands on him. Holding him. Because this was the way he needed to be comforted. He needed Oswald here … Until the voices stopped. 

‘For what? To make you feel special about yourself?’ He knew even as the voice spoke he knew that was a lie … He never needed to feel special because Oswald already made him feel special … ‘He took you away from me. Away from us.’ Oswald shaking hand clutched him, his other caressing his neck, his thumb over his jaw. He could taste the salt from his tears and he knew right then … He didn’t want to die. 

‘We’re enough for each other. We don’t need anyone else, Edward.’ But as the voice faded from his mind, the feeling of Oswald’s lips faded, his vision faded, and his eyes slipped closed, he knew … It could be worse.


	2. It couldn't be worse.

Chapter 2 – Oswald’s POV 

Oswald turned in bed with a groan, a nightmare of his mother once again stirring him, but not enough to pull him completely from sleep. He reached his hand out for Edward and paused, his hand meeting nothing but cold sheets. He opened his eyes and looked around the dark room, the only light from the bright green neon sign outside. 

“Ed?” He asked, sitting up and saw that Edward was sitting on the floor next to the bed, his head rested against the mattress. He smiled slightly and shook his head. It wasn’t unusual for the man to fall asleep in weird places, he’d grown used to it. He got out of bed, the floor cold against his bare feet and moved around the foot board. “Hey …” He said. Something felt off … Usually Edward would have woken up by now. 

He reached the other side of the bed and practically collapsed at Edward’s side, fear filling him as he saw the blood pooling around him. “No … No no no …” He said, tears filling his eyes he reached out for his wrist, his face, his hand coming to his mouth unsure of what to do. This couldn’t be happening. “Ed no … No why?” He begged. “Why would you do this?!” He asked, his hands coming to cheeks, patting him gently, trying to get him to wake up. “Wake up … Ed wake up!” He could feel hot fresh tears streaming down his face as he watched Edward’s eyes open, watched him struggle to look up at him. He buried his face in his chest as his tears flowed freely. “No … No no no, please!” He begged, his hands clutching at the material of Edward’s shirt. “Why?” He begged, and he wasn’t even sure Edward could hear him. He rested his head against Edward, his eyes closed again, but his chest was still rising and falling gently, his heart pounding in his chest against Oswald’s and he could hear his own in his ears. “Don’t leave me … Don’t leave me … Not like this!” He said before pulling Edward into a kiss. The last kiss they would ever share … “Not again … Not again … Don’t you leave me too!” He said, but he knew it was too late. He couldn’t feel Edward’s heart beating against his chest anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself from pulling away from him, his lips still against his and he knew … It couldn’t be worse.


End file.
